The Odin Mission Read Free Page B

belonging.
    Even so, when he thought of the regiment, it was the 2nd Battalion -
the one with which he had served since joining up eight years before. He had
assumed that once his leave was over, he would be returning to Palestine, where
the 2nd Battalion was still based, but instead he had been told that the 5th
Battalion needed experienced men and had been packed off to Leeds to join them
instead.
    At the time he had been distraught to leave behind so many good
friends, not to mention the way of life he had come to know so well, but it was
also a matter of pride, and Jack Tanner was a proud man. The 5th Battalion were
not regulars but Territorials and, as everyone knew, were barely more than
poorly trained part-timers.
    In the six weeks he had been with them, he had not seen much to alter
that view. Most of the men in his platoon were decent enough lads, but the
majority were undernourished and from impoverished families living in the
industrial cities of Leeds and Bradford. They lacked the stamina and fitness he
was used to with the regulars. Few of them could fire thirty rounds a minute
with anything approaching a decent aim. Parade-ground drill, route marches and
a few exercises on the moors was the limit of their experience. Lieutenant
Dingwall, his platoon commander, had been a solicitor from Ripon before the
war, and although he was harmless enough he could barely read a map, let alone
fell a man from five hundred yards. Tanner knew the subaltern inspired little
confidence in his men, yet now they were heading off to war, and it was
Tanner's job to keep them alive and help to make them into an effective
fighting unit.
    Tanner sighed and looked out at the ships of their small force steaming
with Pericles. No more than two hundred yards away the transport ship, Sirius, carried the battalion's
artillery, motor transport and much of their ammunition and other equipment. He
would have liked to know whose idea it had been to put so much of their
equipment onto one ship. 'Bloody idiots,' he muttered, then pushed his tin
helmet to the back of his head and leant forward to gaze down at the sea racing
past.
    In fact, he had begun to doubt whether anyone in the entire army, let
alone 148th Brigade, had much idea about what they were doing. Since leaving
Leeds and arriving at Rosyth, they had boarded three different ships, loading
and unloading their equipment on each occasion. Confusion and chaos had ensued.
Kit had been lost and mixed up with that of the Sherwood Foresters and
Leicesters, who were also part of the brigade, while once, they had even set
sail before turning and heading back to port. Nobody seemed to know why. All
the men had been grumbling and it had been universally agreed that the top
brass needed their heads examining. This was no way to fight a war.
    After disembarking the second time, they had marched eleven miles to a
makeshift camp outside Dumfermline where they had remained an entire week, carrying
out a few route marches but little firing practice or battle training: most of
their ammunition and equipment was still lying somewhere on Rosyth docks. Even
when they had finally set sail early the previous morning, the battalion had
been horribly mixed up: two companies and HQ Company on Pericles , and one each on the
other two cruisers, along with the Foresters and Leicesters. Worst of all, no
attempt seemed to have been made to split up their heavy equipment. Tanner
gazed at Sirius and wondered again whose idea it had been to put all
their transport and guns on one thin-skinned, poorly armed transport ship.
'Bloody hell,' he said again, shaking his head.
    'You all right, Sarge?' Corporal Sykes was standing beside him, cupping
his hands with his back turned as he tried to light a cigarette.
    'Yes, thanks, Stan. Not so much of a croaker now?'
    'Think I'll pull through. Better for being out here at any rate.
Christ, the smell down there. Bloody terrible.'
    'Why do you think I'm standing out here?' Tanner